Beside You In Time
by Gavrilo-Princip
Summary: Two people start out as need and end up in love. Oneshot. You might not like it, so you are forewarned.


_Note: You know the standard disclaimer crap. I sincerely and forcefully hate anyone who puts a disclaimer at the beginning of every chapter, so it's a good thing this is just a one shot. I live near Scranton, PA, about 20 minutes away and The Office just feels that much more…real because of it. Well, the good part of me spending a lot of time in Scranton is that the information about the city is pretty accurate. You should definitely stop up sometime and have a drink with me. Song is by Snow Patrol. Title is a song from Nine Inch Nails' latest album With Teeth.  
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He stared up at the clock for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, but unfortunately time moved no faster and he still had a little less than a half an hour to go before the day ended and he could leave behind Michael's misguided antics and Dwight's typically irritating actions.

Jim loosened his tie and sighed, eyes drifting over to her. Her face was stoic and she was intently working, eyes moving from papers to computer screen as her fingers flew over the keyboard. The phone rang and she answered it, her hushed tone barely drifting over to him. She placed the receiver back in its cradle and sighed, clearly as ready to go home as he was. Then she looked up and caught his eye. Jim smiled meekly, a little embarrassed that she'd caught him. Her own lips twisted into a tight, polite smile, but Jim could see in her eyes how she _wanted_ to smile. Unfortunately, he also knew why she couldn't. Their coworkers were all around them and they wouldn't understand.

Her gaze switched from him to the clock. He looked and he grinned, unnaturally happy. Jim had been staring at her for the better part of half an hour and it was time to leave. He turned back to her and she allowed herself to give in just a little more and smile wider.

Everyone around the office began to pack up for the day. Papers were slipping inside briefcases and arms were slipped inside coat sleeves. Kelly waved brightly as she passed by his desk. Ryan slipped the ear buds of his iPod in and nodded as he walked past him. Phyllis smiled shyly, Oscar clapped him on the shoulder, and Toby quietly wished him a good weekend. Everyone else passed by his desk without a word.

Jim stretched in his chair and put on his suit jacket, then went to retrieve his coat.

"Ready?" he asked Pam who smiled as he approached reception.

"Yeah, let's go," her smile grew at those words as the weight of the week was lifted.

"So you were quiet today," Pam observed as they waited for the elevator to come back up.

"Yeah, well, Dwight was wearing that anime tie, so I was pretty much captivated by how handsome it made him look," he said, smirking. She giggled and he smiled a little brighter.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" she asked him, eyes lighting up with interest.

"Um…just hanging out tonight," he said simply. She wasn't satisfied with his explanation.

"By yourself or with someone?"

"With someone, actually. And that, Miss Beesly, is all you get," his scowled playfully as she opened her mouth, pretending to be appalled.

"Well, can you tell me what you're going to be doing?" she questioned further.

"Wow…you are so nosey." They stepped into the elevator together.

"I'm just interested in what you're up to this weekend, that's all," she was defensive now and Jim could sense it would quickly become uncomfortable.

"Well, me and this friend are just planning to go out shopping tonight. Probably gonna pick up some guns and ski masks, and then the rest of our night will be spent riding the waves of our reign of terror," she laughed loudly, shaking her head, and he was thankful his joking had managed to lift the mood. They rode down to the lobby in companionable silence, each working the buttons on their coats, preparing to keep the winter weather at bay.

The elevator doors opened and Jim saw gusts of wind blowing snow across the parking lot as fat, heavy white flakes fell steadily from the sky. Jim looked toward his car at the far end of the parking lot, where the artificial light of the building began to fade into darkness, and then looked back at Pam. She looked up at him expectantly and he gave her a small smile.

"Have a good weekend, Pam," he said and she smiled back at him, moving a step closer.

"You too. See you later," and she lingers for a moment and he smiles down at her, but he doesn't want to freeze to death in a parking lot. He turns and walks to his car and Pam climbs into Roy's truck.

Angela is parked next to him and standing outside of her car, speaking into her cell phone and she saw him coming towards his car and promptly hung up and tucked the cell phone into her coat pocket. Jim set his briefcase on the roof to unlock his door. Angela's eyes met his across the roof.

"Hello, Jim," she said, her voice practically blowing away with the wind to the point where he had to strain to hear her. He noticed that the snowflakes were clinging to her hair and the tip of her nose and ears were pink from the cold.

"Hey Angela," he replied, smiling slightly. She said nothing, but smiled back before getting into her car and pulling out of the parking lot.

* * *

Jim sat on his couch, idly flipping through the channels, the sound on the television turned almost all the way down. He had gotten home and changed into jeans and an old black t-shirt. The beer bottle he clutched in his hand was almost empty and he drained the rest and walked into the kitchen to throw it away. When he came back into the living room, he heard a soft knock on his door. He'd been killing time for this moment. He crossed the living room and opened the front door, thankful that Mark was away visiting college friends. 

She stood there on the front step and when he opened the door, her usually tense and stoic face smoothed immediately, making her look infinitely more comfortable than she did in the office. Her blond hair which had earlier been conservatively and tightly braided, now hung loose and slightly messy, framing her face in blond. He had learned that she dressed slightly less uptight outside of the office. She was wearing sneakers and loose black pants and a pale pink shirt, the first few of the top buttons left undone, revealing the skin below her throat, which was something he was confident that not many people saw regularly. There was a ghost of a smile on her pale pink lips.

"Angela," he said simply.

"Jim," she reached out and took his hand, her fingers threading through his and squeezing. He pulled her inside and shut the door, then turned back to face her. She tightly embraced him and he closed his eyes, feeling her small hands clutching his shoulder blades, slender points of warmth pushing through his shirt. His hands slid over her hips and he closed her in his arms, head lowering to rest on her shoulder. Idly, he moved his hand slowly up and down the small of her back, and briefly allowed himself to review the events which led him to this point in time.

* * *

_ Earlier in the day he had watched as Roy came up to the reception desk to visit Pam. He saw the way she smiled as he talked softly. He saw her reach up to take his hand in hers and play with his fingers as he talked. He saw Roy lean in and whisper something in her ear that made her giggle before the two quickly and quietly slipped out the front door together. _

_ When she had come back, she was fixing her hair and her cheeks were flushed and at that moment he wanted to slip off the face of the fucking Earth. He honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could take the endless and hopeless pining he was currently enveloped in._

_ When he had gotten home, he took a shower letting water that was much too hot scald him clean. After a few hours in the shower, he mutely dressed himself and slipped out of the apartment, avoiding Mark. He had driven around Scranton, stopping briefly at the Steamtown Mall to numbly browse through the CDs at F.Y.E. He bought an album by a band he'd been meaning to check out before leaving. He could have downloaded the album for free, but he just needed something to do. After he rode the elevator down to the parking garage, he spent ten minutes in his car trying to figure out what to do. He pulled out of the parking garage and drove until he was on Spruce Street. He stopped in at the Northern Light Café and stared at the menu for another ten minutes before realizing he wanted something other than coffee. He drove around, looking for a bar, and spotted Poor Richard's. He thought of all the times he overheard Roy mention the place and decided to pass it up, eventually settling on Moran's Pub about halfway across town._

_ Moran's was a smaller place, quieter and a little bit dingier than the rest of the bars in the area, but for what it might have lacked in atmosphere, it made up for in the form of cheap alcohol and a quiet crowd on weekends. Another benefit was that the bar was too out of the range of any students from the University of Scranton looking to have a rowdy evening. With a headache looming inside of his head, Jim was very thankful for this fact. He walked through the snow and stamped his feet before entering the bar. _

_ He slid up onto a stool and let his coat drop to the floor beneath his feet. The bartender took his order and then slid a double shot of whiskey and a beer in front of him. Jim took the shot and felt the whiskey burn through him and closed his eyes against the sensation. He sat there a few moments longer, sipping his beer idly and watching the news on the television above the bar. After the news was finished, he looked around the bar, looking for a familiar face. He found one he wasn't expecting sitting directly across the room from him by herself._

_ Her eyes were red and puffy and it was obvious that she had been crying. She sat stiffly in the booth, clearly out of her element in the unfamiliar surroundings. Jim noticed that she was in her work clothes, but what shocked him more was that she was drinking alcohol. With nothing better to do, Jim turned to the bartender._

_ "Hey, see that woman over there? I'll take another of whatever she's drinking," Jim had noticed that her drink was nearly empty. The bartender squinted into the distance before nodding and then disappeared briefly, only to reappear with the drink in his hand. Jim handed him a few bills, grabbed the drink, and made his way over to sit across from Angela. She was staring off into space and when he sat down across from her in her field of vision, she immediately was jolted out of her reverie. He grinned slightly as she looked completely surprised to see him. She went to nervously take a drink before speaking, but noticed her drink was empty. Jim set the fresh one in front of her. She took it eagerly._

_ "Thanks."_

_ "Yeah…so…um, I didn't know you drank. What with the whole Christianity and…" he trailed off._

_ "Yeah, well…no one is perfect. I had a shitty day, Jim, and if you're going to just sit here and…and…question me about what I do, then I think one of us should leave, because I am **not** up for it," she avoided his eyes._

_ "And you curse, too," he observed. Angela let out a small sound of exasperation and made a move to get up. Jim held up a hand to stop her._

_ "No, no, come on…I'm sorry. I won't…anymore. Please," he gestured back to her seat. She eyed him warily and sat down, sniffling and stirring her drink absentmindedly, staring at the table._

_ "Hey," he began softly, "What's wrong?"_

_ She looked up at him, again surprised. She didn't know he'd care, couldn't see how or why he would. She cleared her throat._

_ "I was…seeing this guy and it didn't really work out. We had too much conflict and not enough relationship," she said, looking at him from across the table. She decided to continue._

_ "I just thought that maybe I could find someone who…understood me. I thought I did. I thought I found the perfect person for me," and here she laughed, "but as I found out at the end, he wasn't really interested."_

_ "That…sucks. How long ago was this?" Jim asked, leaning forward and taking a drink from his own bottle._

_ "A little bit over a month," she confessed shyly and then quickly added, "I know it's ridiculous. I should just get over him, and I know that but…"_

_ "But it's not that simple," he finished for her, giving her a sad smile for emphasis. She looked at him smiled back._

_ "Exactly."_

_ And they had talked for a long time after that, Jim growing to enjoy talking with her, noticing and cataloguing little things she would do that were different from how she acted in the office._

_ The way she talked, her hands fluidly moving about for emphasis._

_ The way her hair hung around her face messily after she let it out of the tight braids and the way she would brush it out of her eyes._

_ Her laugh, which was never heard in work, and the way the skin around her eyes crinkled when she laughed really hard._

_ The way she sat in her chair, slumped slightly and relaxed. _

_ The different way her voice sounded when she was relaxed, softer and easier, not the sharp tone it took on in the office._

_ During a break in their conversation, he went up to order himself another double shot and another beer. He had offered to buy her another, but she declined. When he returned, he downed his shot and sipped at his beer, looking briefly around the bar. When he looked back, he noticed her gaze fixed on him._

_ "What?" he asked, making a move to wipe his face, afraid that he somehow had a smudge of dirt or something else clinging to it._

_ When he had sat back down, she had looked at him, the soft line of his mouth, the five o'clock shadow, and finally his eyes. He looked tired and there were the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn't been sleeping. She had noticed a certain dullness to his eyes._

_ " You aren't happy," she wasn't asking. He coughed and looked away uncomfortably._

_ "Is it...uh...is it Pam?" she asked. His eyes clouded and the weight of the day came down on him. His eyes welled up as he nodded curtly, avoiding her eyes. He could feel her gaze on him and started slightly when he felt her hand slide over his. He turned back to her and saw what he least expected: sympathy. She looked like she understood and he figured it probably wasn't hard for some people in the office to pick up on. After a few moments he slid his hand out from underneath hers._

_ "It's late and I should probably get home," he explained. She nodded and stood, slipping on her own coat. He retrieved his from where it still sat on the floor by the bar and turned back to see Angela standing unsteadily by the door. He walked over to her._

_ "Uh, I never thought I'd be making this observation, but…um, you're drunk, Angela," he said, laughing nervously. She smirked back up at him._

_ "Yeah, I am. I was here for about two hours before you got here," she explained._

_ "Ah, that explains it then. Well, come on, I'll give you a ride," he held the door open for her. She nodded and walked out into the swirling snow, the beam from the neon bar light glinting off strands of her blond hair which swirled wildly around her face. He looked at her waiting there for him and his eyes took her in appreciatively, realizing exactly how beautiful she could be if she allowed herself. He walked up to where she swayed unsteadily on her feet and put his arm out for her, which she gladly took with both hands, using him to steady herself._

_ He unlocked the door for her and she released his arm to climb inside. He went around to his side and got in, keying the ignition and turning the defroster on. They sat in silence as the car began to warm up. Eventually Angela reached over and turned on the radio, searching through the station until she halted as the strains of a song already in progress came through the speakers._

_**I can hardly speak I understand  
Why you can't raise your voice to say**_

_**To think I might not see those eyes  
Makes it so hard not to cry  
And as we say our long goodbye  
I nearly do**_

_ Jim recognized the song, it was one of his favorites, in fact, and he was once again surprised by Angela, this time by her taste in music. He looked over to her and saw her singing softly along with the song, eyes locked on the glow from the radio's display. He couldn't hear her over the radio, but his eyes stayed on her, nonetheless. He watched as her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he felt something turn deep down inside of himself. She reached to turn the radio down and then looked over at him, tears in her eyes._

_ "I'm not happy...I feel unappreciated at work, even though that sounds self-absorbed. I feel like no matter how much love I put out, no matter how much I try...it doesn't make a difference," she took a breath, "I think that if I were to leave this world tomorrow...not a lot of people would…would notice I was gone."_

_ Jim listened to her and felt like he was choking. He felt heat run up his back and his neck felt damp. His vision blurred and he saw that she was crying and he just gave in and let go, wet tracks running down his cheeks. He didn't say anything, he just nodded in this way that she knew that he felt the same thing she did, maybe for different reasons, but they were on the same page. Angela turned away to rest her head against the window, embarrassed. Jim reached a trembling hand out to where her own rested, curled up, in her lap. She looked over at him, and he pulled on her hand gently. She leaned closer to him._

_ He leaned in closer to her and they were within an inch of each other, could feel each other's breath, when her other hand pressed warm against his cheek. She nodded almost imperceptibly and closed her eyes. He shut his own and pressed forward, closing the gap between them. _

_ Her lips were soft and wet and slightly uncertain. The hand on his cheek slid back to the nape of his neck and tangled in his hair. Another shaking hand reached up to the back of her neck to pull her deeper into the kiss and their lips began moving, slowly and deliberately and shakily. When they finally pulled back from each other, Jim was slightly dumbfounded by his behavior and scared that Angela would come to her senses and be incredibly, incredibly pissed off at him. But she was smiling at him with watery eyes._

_ "I'd like to go home now, Jim," she said, still smiling. He smiled back unsurely, but nodded and drove off towards her house. After he dropped her off, he went home and laid in bed until he finally drifted off sometime after two._

_ The next morning, he picked her up from her house and took her to get her car. Surprisingly enough, conversation came easy to them and the situation wasn't awkward. But neither of them had mentioned the kiss._

That was almost three months ago. When he managed to catch her on her way into work the Monday following the incident outside of Moran's Pub, he had awkwardly told her that it would be nice if she wanted to stop by sometime. She said nothing, but looked around the parking lot quickly before reaching out to squeeze his hand in her own. Later that night, she had shown up on his doorstep and they watched a movie together. Mark, who had returned home to find his roommate sitting on the couch with a woman that was not the Pam he so often spoke of was surprised, but said nothing and excused himself before heading upstairs.

After that, either she would show up at his apartment or he would make the drive across town to hers (after expressing guilt one night that she was always driving to see him). They would always watch television or movies, or occasionally sit next to each other while leafing through novels or magazines or newspapers. After the first few times, she began sitting closer and closer to him until finally they had their second kiss, on the couch in the living room of her modest and orderly apartment. After that second kiss, Jim could comfortably kiss Angela whenever he wanted when it was just the two of them.

A month after their first kiss, at Jim's apartment during another weekend when Mark was away, their making out had gotten away from them and Angela had lead him up to his bedroom where they both undressed each other frantically, an air of nervousness and excitement filling the room. That was the first time they had had sex and she had stayed the night, sleeping naked next to him in bed. He had been mildly shocked to find out she wasn't a virgin. They had breakfast the next morning and any residual awkwardness between them was erased. They were both entirely comfortable around each other and communicated more in moments of silence with subtle gestures and body language than most people did during conversations. Angela seemed to lighten up a fraction around the office and Jim found himself thinking about Pam less and less romantically, a fact which disturbed him.

And here he was tonight, again, with her in his arms. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and smiled into her skin and he felt her sigh. They sat down on the couch together and began watching _Magnolia_, a movie he found out that they both loved. Fifteen minutes into the movie and he felt her head move onto his shoulder and her arm slide under his, fingers playing with some frayed threads on his jeans as they watched the movie together.

Angela had told him the first time they watched this together that she always cried towards the end because the pain that each of the characters carried felt comparable to her own pain and dissatisfaction and sense of loss that she inexplicably felt. Tonight was no exception and by the end of the movie, he held her sobbing in his arms. He had also confessed to her that the ending got to him and tonight was no exception.

After the credits ended and the DVD player's screensaver came up, Jim clicked off the television and he and Angela ascended the stairs together, him leading her this time.

When they reached his room, he let her slip inside before him and she turned on the small desk lamp instead of the bright ceiling light, it's warm glow illuminating the room just enough that they could get ready to sleep. Angela went over to a smaller dresser he had put next to his after she had started spending the night with him frequently. It was dedicated entirely to her things. When she had first seen it after he had gotten it, she had asked him why he felt the need to do that and he had shrugged and sheepishly responded that he wanted her to feel at home with him. She had replied that she did. She opened the top drawer and took out her contacts before shutting the drawer and opening another. She slid off her black pants revealing white cotton panties and folded them neatly, placing them inside the drawer and pulling out one of Jim's old light blue cotton t-shirts. She set it on top of the dresser and unbuttoned her shirt, sliding off her body. She waited for him to finish taking off his own clothes, as he slept only in boxers, and he came over to undo the clasp of her bra, which she slid off and placed on top of her jeans. She pulled his shirt over her had and let it drop, hanging just below her waist, her nipples pressing slightly through the thin fabric because of the slight chill in the room. He stood by the light and waited for her to climb into bed before shutting it off and sliding beneath the thick quilt next to her. They both liked to sleep in cold rooms, both enjoyed the feeling of waking up surrounded in warmth, sheltered from cold air, so they intentionally kept the window open to cool the room.

She faced away from him her arms wrapped tightly around herself, not asleep, but merely waiting. She had done this shortly after they began sharing the same bed. She would slide in and wait for him, facing away from him and seemingly disinterested in his presence. When he had brought it up, she told him that she did it because she wanted to feel sought after, wanted someone to want her and pursue her. Jim more than understood her feelings.

He moved his body so it pressed against her small frame and his hands went to her hips and shoulders, spooning her close against him. She tensed up, but he could read her body language by now and knew she wasn't uncomfortable. She was just anticipating his next move.

She felt his lips on her shoulder, warm and soft and slowly kissing their way up into the crook of her neck, pressing against her pulse beating beneath her skin, up to the back of her jaw below her ear. He moved his lips higher to press a kiss to her ear, tongue darting out to trace the curve, and she sighed and melted against him, the tension evaporating. She felt one of his hands, his slender fingers, sliding across her stomach beneath the cotton of her shirt and the sensation made her press back into him, grinding against him slightly until she felt him react beneath her. His arms tightened around her, left hand sliding beneath her body to find one of her hands and slip inside of it. She squeezed it briefly before closing her eyes and guiding it towards her small breasts, where it caressed her gently, his thumb sliding across her nipple making her gasp. She turned in his arms and began to press kisses to his jaw, down his neck to his collarbone and back up to meet his lips.

The kiss deepened, its intensity rose, and her tiny hands slid down his chest and over his stomach to push his boxers off. He kicked them further down beneath the blankets and she pushed the quilt back entirely, a blast of cold air sliding across their overheated skin. Jim moved to prop himself above her, still kissing her, and began to slide the shirt up and over her head. She moaned soft and low in the back of her throat, his lips trailed down her neck, over her collarbone, over her breasts where he stopped to briefly draw a nipple into his mouth before continuing down over the flat, smooth plane of her stomach, until he finally placed a chaste kiss to the damp fabric at the apex of her thighs. She moaned and he pulled back, waiting for her to hook her thumbs in the waistband of her panties. She slide them off and he kissed between her thighs again, longer this time, reveling in the taste of her before she bucked slightly, just once, beneath him and he felt her fingers in his hair, tugging him up to her.

She kissed him and when they broke apart, they were both breathing heavily, looking into each other's eyes and she nodded, mouth slightly agape. He slid himself slowly inside of her and just stayed motionless for a minute as she clutched him closer to her, pressing her forehead against his, both of their eyes still locked as they lay gasping together. Then, with slight urging from her, he began to move inside of her.

Her beautiful, pale body writhed beneath him and her skin slid across his in the wonderful, intricate dance they were performing. Soon enough, though, her lips were wild and insistent, frantically urging him to increase his pace. He complied and soon her soft moans were loud gasps and she was moving fast beneath him, matching his own movements, and she said his name breathlessly several times and then she came undone beneath him and he followed her soon afterwards, her head tilted back, back arched off the mattress, and his lips and tongue on her throat as they both resurfaced from their respective releases. She kept her legs wrapped around him, holding him inside of her, for a few minutes as she stared into his eyes, her own shining in the moonlight that seeped through the curtains over the window. Slowly and reluctantly, she loosened her legs and allowed him to slide out and he pulled the quilt back over the both of them and fell onto his side next to her.

Angela turned to Jim and moved closer until her breasts pressed tightly against his chest and there was barely an inch between them. Her hands framed his face, thumbs rubbing over his bottom lip and chin, and she looked intensely into his eyes. Jim saw her eyes watering.

"What's up?" he asked softly.

"I…love you," she said breathlessly, unflinchingly. He felt his breath catch in his lungs and heat work its way up the back of his neck. His arms tightened around her and he pulled her closer to him. Their legs slid across each other as they tangled themselves together. One of his hands snaked its way up her back to bury itself in her hair. He looked at her and he didn't blink, and her hand brushed stray hair off of his forehead where beads of sweat still lingered by the hairline. He kissed her forehead, tasted her sweat and licked his lips. He pulled back to look into her eyes again.

"I love you, too."

"But…what about-" she began, all of a sudden rigid and nervous and unsure of herself. Jim shook his head.

"Angela…I love you," he said, gripping her hip tightly in his hand for emphasis. In the dark he saw a tear slide down to hang on the tip of her nose. Jim immediately pressed his lips to her nose, then her forehead again, then her chin and finally her lips, lingering there for a long moment. He pulled back and she was grinning at him, more tears already traveling down her face.

"Jim…" she began, but he stopped her.

"Shhh, go to sleep, Angie," he said.

"I hate that nickname, you know," she said softly.

"Then why did you start smiling so much right after I used it?" he asked, grinning broadly at her. She returned his smile and kissed him deeply.

And minutes later, they were both asleep.

* * *

_Reviews are welcome, however I've gotta try to discourage people who will leave angry messages because: I don't care if you don't like this pairing. And I won't even pretend to listen to people complain.  
_

_I wrote this story because I wanted to write something about two people who maybe have a little more in common then they thought finding something in each other and easing the lack in their own lives. _


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